


Long Journey Home 4/?

by xtricks



Category: due South
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-19
Updated: 2004-11-19
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: Buddy Breathing and living wills.





	Long Journey Home 4/?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Long Journey Home 4/?

## Long Journey Home 4/?

by XTricks

Disclaimer: AA ownes 'em. I don't.

Author's Notes: 

Story Notes: No spoilers, set after the series when Fraser is back in Canada and both Ray's are in the US. Some violence, medical stuff and, later, explicit m/m sex.

This story is a sequel to: Long Journey Home 3/? 

* * *

So Fraser's room had gone from zero to crowded in a week and it was driving Ray batshit. Frobisher was there 'cause he and Maggie were on Fraser's next of kin list. Maggie turned up the day after Ray tested out the men's room for pukeability; she'd been on long patrol and out of touch. Maggie didn't have the same cast iron Mountie armor her brother and watching her face crumple; yeah, okay so Fraser got friends up here and he wasn't alone. They were still gonna have to pry Ray's ass outta the chair by his bed with a crowbar and a restraining order. 

Ray was coming back with a cup of coffee and some chips from the machine--he was getting real friendly with that machine--and found Vecchio, the _other_ Ray, in _his_ chair. 

"Yer sittin' in my chair," Ray muttered. 

"This ain't kindergarten, Kowalski, deal," Vecchio hardly looked up from Fraser's still, blank face. "He been like this the whole time?" 

Ray hadn't been looking much at Fraser; talking to him, yeah, until he was hoarse but he couldn't _look_ at him. Hurt too much. "He's looking better," he said defensively. 

He wasn't lying and that made it worse somehow, like some healing bruises and no more fever made a difference when Fraser's brain was off talking to moose or his dad or something in la-la-land. They'd taken most of the bandages off his face and he was gonna have a scar but Fraser still had both eyes; Ray hadn't been so sure about that, first time he saw him. Things were getting better, things _were_ getting better and maybe Fraser would check back in with his body sometime and see that--maybe even stick around. 

"Okay, okay," Vecchio sighed, dragging his coat closed, looking like he was settling in for a long haul. Ray smirked; Armani didn't make no longjohns and Vecchio was looking pretty chilly in his suit and silk tie. Looked like shit, actually, like someone who'd spent too long on a plane, thinking bad thoughts; sunken eyes, stubble, hell--it even looked like Vecchio needed a _shower_ and Ray hadn't seen the Style Pig look so worn out before. So, maybe feeling smug wasn't such a good thing because Vecchio was here for Fraser and that was a gold star in Ray's book. 

"Hey, you want some coffee?" Ray held out his cup, which should have 'Peace Offering' stamped on the side. It was almost good to have Vecchio here; when it came to Fraser, he and Vecchio were on the same page. 

"Sure," Vecchio's voice, with it's Chicago bang, was strange after all the 'thankyou' s' and 'if you please', Ray listened too whenever the nurses drove him out of Fraser's room. Ray pulled up Maggie's chair and started in on the chips while Vecchio stared at Fraser. 

"He's still alive," Ray said again, watching like Vechhio was watching. Looking for a sign. "He'll come back." 

"Sure, 'couse he will" Vecchio smiled like a shark, fake and wide and Ray wonder if he was seeing the Bookman here, and reached out, folding his fingers over the unbandaged tips of Fraser's hand and Ray wanted to pop him one. That was _his_ hand, the one he held and Maggie had the other and it was _his_ chair. Vecchio dragged a handful of wooden beads out, a sliver crucifix gleaming in the fluorescent lights, face slack with desperation before he bent over the rosary. "Hail Mary full of grace--" 

"--blessed art thou among women--," Ray found himself whispering, smelling childhood and church, and remembering these words--polish, English, Italian--it didn't matter. Cops heard them a lot; perps and partners, whispered and wept and screamed. When you got nothing else, you always got God; except he didn't give any guarantees and he sure as hell didn't give anything without taking away. But the words; maybe you could believe in miracles because he really, really needed to believe in miracles again. 

[I]"--and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus Christ--[/I] 

* * *

Fraser could hear the dogs barking, and the hiss of the snow--he was sledding-- and everything was white and clean and true. But he didn't know where he was; the air around him was featureless, he couldn't even seen the dogs he heard. 

He was lost, he knew it, and didn't know where to turn. No stars to navigate by, no landmarks, no map, no reaching hand. No bundle of instincts and energy to tell him what to do when logic failed. He didn't know where he was or what he was rushing towards and the dogs--barking high pitched and strange and distant--only ran faster and faster. Fraser's chest tightened with unfamiliar panic. 

He was lost. 

* * *

The music stopped. 

"Wha--?" Ray jerked his head up, blinking then shoving his way to his feet in a hammering panic. Not music, Fraser. A settling exhalation, no inhalation, and the dropping beep-beep-beep falling to the steady whine of an alarm. "Frase, Frase, Frase, _Frase_!" 

There were running feet in the hall and, god, nothing on Fraser's face, nothing at all--no _fight_ and Ray was yelling at him and where were the docs--standing. Just standing in the door. 

"Godammit!" Ray saw them standing in the fucking door and not doing anything, fucking Canadians, and Fraser was dying here! Ray's fingers were dancing with adrenaline and he couldn't see for shit 'cause he was fucking crying and they weren't doing _anything._ "He's dying--get over hear! What the fuck-- what the fuck!" 

"Mr. Kowalski--" 

"Wat's wrong with you?" Ray shrieked and where was Vecchio when he needed the bastard. Fraser needed to breathe, Fraser needed air and Ray knew that, he _knew_ that one. Scrambling over Fraser, knees crushing the bedding and the IV tube--buddy breathing--he knew this. Air, air and a kick to the head when one of the nurses tried to pull him off. Fraser's mouth--cool--and Ray sobbed into him, breathing 'cause they were buddies. They were partners and he breathed and _breathed_ , vision sparkling with darkness 'cause he didn't save any air for himself. 

"Lemme go!" He yelled, mouth popping free, locking hands on the bedrails as someone yanked at his belt. It wasn't nurses now but big strapping Canadian security goons and they hauled him off. Pulled him away from Fraser; he had to breathe for him. Ray had to make Fraser _breathe_ and he couldnt catch his own breath, bright lights spinning as he was slammed to the floor--bouncing up Chicago style with a smack to a goon's head. 

"Gonna bogart you all--you're killing him--lemme go! Lemme go!" 

" _Stop_ \--Mr. Kowalski! You've violated--" 

Ray lunched forward, trying to get back to Fraser but he was buried in doctors _now_ and Ray wanted his gun, he wanted his badge because it looked like murder in here. He wanted back-up. "Vecchio! Vecchio--man down!" 

It was dogpile on the Pollack and Ray was dragged out of Fraser's room hollering for Vecchio, for Fraser, kicking heads. There was a flash of red and it was Maggie--still in uniform. 

"Maggie--!" Ray yelled, both arms twisted up his back by the hospital goons until it felt like they were gonna pop out of his shoulders, dangling off the floor and hating being skinny. Maggie came right up, flashing that anger just like Fraser did sometimes and Ray knew it would be okay now. She came right up and popped him a good one. "Aa-oww!" 

Ray was still seeing stars, toes dragging as he was hauled away from Fraser. He was thrown onto a couch and bounced back up, ready for another round, and Maggie shoved him back down. 

"They're fucking killin' him!" he yelled. 

"What were you _thinking_ Ray?" Maggie shouted hoarsely. "What were you doing in there?" 

"Maggie--Maggie--" Ray tried to shake the words out, he didn't want to leave Fraser alone. "Frase flat-lined and they didn't do anything!" 

"Of course not," Maggie's voice was stumbling, squeezed out of a tight throat and bright eyes. "Fraser left instructions--no--no resuscitation. Nothing like that." 

All the fight left Ray and he stared at her, mouth hanging open. "What? What the fuck is that? No-nonono--he _don't_ get to do that. He don't get to do that! No way." 

"Of course he does," Maggie had her palms pressed to her eyes but Ray could see the tears dripping down her wrists. Her breath hitched and Ray clenched his fists. "Of course he does." 

"Maggie," Ray begged. "Maggie, please." 

"Why do you always make it worse?!" Maggie dropped her hands and Ray backstepped 'cause Maggie looked ready to clean his clock. She was yelling-- even in uniform--yelling at him. Yelling. "Why are you here? To make it harder? To make me hate myself more? Do you think I want to _watch_ him die like this? He's like--like a ghost already!" 

"He--he needed air," Ray held out his hands, patting the air, trying to make her see. Shifting from foot to foot, where was Vecchio? What was going down with Fraser? Was he breathing now? Ray's heart was twisting in his chest, he could hardly breathe--like Fraser still had all his air. He had to be alive. He had to. "We're b-buddies and he needed air, Maggie. I gotta give him that--I-I _owe_ him that." 

"You," Maggie pointed at him, hand shaking, face wet and Ray could see the circles under her eyes, dark as his own. "You _stay_ here and if you open that door I'll have you arrested and deported." 

Ray dropped like a dog into one of the chairs, because he wasn't leaving this hospital. Wasn't leaving Fraser here. "Maggie--Maggie--you'll tell me right? Tell me if--if he's--" 

Maggie slammed through the door without answering. 

**TBC**

* * *

End Long Journey Home 4/? by XTricks:

Author and story notes above.


End file.
